Nimble Fingers
by CherriiMarina
Summary: Years after the war, events conspire to change the path of one life. Warning: Dark, Dark!Hermione. SSHG and LMHG alluded to.
1. Waking Up

Rating: M for safety's sake due to some dark events.

Characters: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy

Pairing: HG/SS alluded

Warnings: Dark!Hermione, vague sexual references, sado-masochism

Author's Note: This is still a WIP, but shall not probably be more than two-three chapters. I simply don't think it has the capability to go any further. It was intended to be just one chapter, but my muse took over and has allowed it to grow a bit. Comments/Reviews are appreciated, whether good or bad, because either can only serve to make any further chapters/stories better. Thanks.

Dark eyes awake in the dark, and an arm reaches out to turn on the lamp beside the bed. The blaring red digits on her alarm clock read 4:00, and she grumbles as she drags herself from the bed. She stumbles into the dark kitchen, flipping a switch on the way, dimly illuminating the small space with one incandescent bulb, which hangs from a dangling string in the middle of the room. Even so, her eyes recoil from the light after so long in the darkness of sleep. She sets about making breakfast. The ground coffee goes into the perma-filter, followed by water in the reservoir. She presses a button and the old machine groans to life, sputtering and hissing as the heavenly aroma begins to permeate the air. She opens the cupboard and pulls out a half-stale loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. It is the only food she has, save for the coffee.

She sighs as she makes the sandwich, mumbling under her breath about "filthy muggle habits." She rinses the knife under the faucet and dries it with a tea towel of questionable cleanliness, then pours a cup of strong black coffee from the now-finished pot. She closes her eyes and takes the first sip of the hot brew, grimacing a bit at its strong bitterness.

She reaches for the knife again and cuts the sandwich into triangular quarters. As she lays the knife on the counter, the dim bulb overhead glints off the reflective surface, causing a memory to surface of strong fingers quickly, yet precisely chopping various potions ingredients. She winces at the pain the memory causes, but is quickly taken back to a different time and situation when those same strong and incredibly nimble fingers did something entirely different from chopping, slicing, and dicing ingredients for brewing glory. Oh, the hidden talents those fingers had possessed, she thinks as her lips curl into a half-sneer. She had, at times, thought his hands and fingers were completely wasted on the endless potions he concocted. It was at those times, when his fingers were busy on a certain part of her anatomy that she had found complete peace. Only at those times, she bitterly recalls, and never since.

She snaps back the present and notes that her once hot coffee is now cold. How much time has she wasted with her daydreaming? She knows she has somewhere to be soon and the consequences for not being on time – early even – were dire. She heads to the small bathroom to begin her daily ministrations. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the way reveals that she spent nearly thirty minutes in her foolish daydreams of the past. She almost kicks herself, but knows that the kicking will come all too soon, and not from her own feet.

A quick, hot shower later, she steps out and begins drying herself with a thin, ragged towel. She is again bombarded with childhood memories of large fluffy towels that smelled of fabric softener and her mum's perfume, and even larger fluffier towels that had been charmed to smell like whatever scent the user wanted. That was back when magic ran rampant through her body. Back when she still had a wand to channel her magical energy and could do any spell shown to her, even if it was only shown to her once. She uses a wet washcloth to wipe the steam from the mirror, and is surprised to see how thin her face has become. She once had a nice face, full of the vitality of youth and filled out with the last vestiges of baby fat. Now her cheeks are sunken in and there are dark rings under her eyes, showing her lack of sleep and proper nutrition. Her eyes had once glittered and shone with her lively vivacity, but now are just hollow bastions of mud brown. _How fitting that my eyes look of mud to betray my mudblood heritage_, she thought.

Her hair is still as thick and bushy as ever, though the ends are a bit too brittle for a witch her age. She begins to wrestle the knots from her hair, and wishes for the Sleekeasy Potion that she used to use on it. She makes a note to remember to ask her Master if she could have ingredients to make some, since she knows he prefers her hair to be sleek and smooth so he can run his fingers through it as he commits atrocious acts on her body.

She feels a twinge of sadness as she remembers those strong hands helping to make Sleekeasy for her, and the playful chase they had to see who could get to the bathtub first. It was her first time making Sleekeasy, and they had to test it out. His nimble fingers had massaged the potion into her hair as they bathed together in the large tub awarded someone of his rank. Afterwards, they had sat in front of the fire, basking in its comforting glow, as he brushed her hair until it was smooth and shiny and crackled in the firelight. They'd made love on the rug when he finished, and fallen asleep in each other's arms, lulled by the hisses and pops of the fire and by their own exhaustion from physical exertion.

She can feel her chest constrict at this memory; it is more painful than the generic memories of earlier. It was the last time they had been together before hell broke loose.

She moves from the bathroom, finally pleased with her hair's obedience, and dresses in the outfit her Master favors the most. She knows he will be pleased with it, and his pleasure will allow her a moment of happiness as well, for she is only truly happy when her Master is. The bodice is a corset made of sleek black leather, and the skirt flows down to brush the tops of her feet, which are bare as always. Her Master never allows shoes to mere mudbloods. It is part of his insurance that they won't run away. He took their wands years ago, and they have all been forced to be without magic since then.

She looks again at her alarm clock and sees that it is time to go. As if on cue, the fire in the fireplace roars to life, shimmering green at the open floo connection. She steps in and is whirled away to an unknown destination. She only knows that her Master wants her there, and so that is where she must go.


	2. Meetings

Rating: M for safety's sake due to some dark events.

Characters: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy

Pairing: HG/SS alluded

Warnings: Dark!Hermione, vague sexual references, sado-masochism

Author's Note: This is still a WIP, but shall not probably be more than two-three chapters. I simply don't think it has the capability to go any further. It was intended to be just one chapter, but my muse took over and has allowed it to grow a bit. Comments/Reviews are appreciated, whether good or bad, because either can only serve to make any further chapters/stories better. Thanks.

She steps out of the green flames, a bit disoriented from the floo ride. The floo attendant removes the soot from her clothing by use of a whispered spell. It does not pay to be overly loud when in her Master's domain, even if one is a pureblood and still allowed magic. She glances up to ascertain her surroundings and feels her blood run cold. Malfoy Manor is one of the worst places to be if one is in her situation, as the likelihood of being shared with her Master's servants is greater here than the other places he has appropriated. If it makes her Master happy to share her, however, she will submit willingly to whomever she is passed. She only hopes that it is not Malfoy tonight.

The hall is lavishly furnished, as only the tremendously wealthy can afford, and the large fireplace from which she has emerged is one of several appointed for keeping the cold marble warm in the harsh British winter. At the opposite end of this ballroom-sized entry hall, there is a throne erected, made of the same blue-grey marble as the rest of the hall. Her Master waits for her there as she slowly makes her way toward him, eyes to the floor in deference to his power.

He looks upon her with blood-red eyes, and stands to greet her as she reaches his throne.

"Ah, Mudblood. I see you are early tonight as always. You are so eager to begin service every night. I should reward you for it. Is there something you would like?" The sibilant sounds hiss from his snake-like face, and she kneels obediently, taking his hand in hers and kissing his knuckles in greeting.

"I deserve no rewards, Master, but for your own pleasure, I would request some Sleekeasy potion for my hair. I have run out of the last batch and my hair suffers from its horrible frizzy nature, as you can see. It does not take much to make, Master. If you would grant me the ingredients and a cauldron of adequate size, I would be happy to brew it myself so as not to bother someone else and take them away from other duties you would assign." She dares not hope that her request will be honored, but she knows how he prefers to see her hair and how displeased he can be when it is not smooth and shiny.

She dares a brief glance up at his face and sees that he is contemplating the idea. "Your hair is most displeasing when you do not have the potion." He pauses for a moment. "However, I do not know that I can trust even you with the volatile ingredients needed for such a potion. I will have Severus make it for you. If he desires your company tonight, he may see his way to letting you assist him in the process." He motions to Wormtail and sends him to find Snape.

Her breath catches for a split-second at the prospect of seeing him again after so long. She cannot afford to show her excitement, however, and simply nods her assent to his wishes. She releases his hand and he resumes his previous seat on the marble throne Malfoy had built for him. She remains kneeling with her head tilted toward his feet, waiting for his next instruction.

"You may come and sit next to me, Mudblood. I have other visitors to greet and you are currently in their way."

She moves quickly, yet gracefully to sit on the floor next to him. She tucks her legs underneath her and arranges her skirts so that her legs cannot be seen. She straightens her back to an elegant posture and places her hands in her lap, raising her head so that she can see. There are many of her Master's associates here already, milling around the room in an effort to be social. She sees Lucius standing in a corner, his long blonde hair secured with a black ribbon, and dressed in his finest robes. He is sipping from a glass and talking with Nott and Avery. He catches her glance and nods in her direction with a smirk fixed to his lips. She does not acknowledge his greeting and he does not expect her to. She belongs to their Master, after all. The Dark Lord strictly moderates any communication she has.

She recognizes most of the Death Eaters congregated at this meeting, and inwardly grimaces as she notices some of her old friends in slave attire, serving drinks and appetizers to those they hated and belonged to. Her heart contracts as she sees a familiar redhead stumble and nearly drop a tray full of expensive hors d'oeuvres before regaining her balance. A couple crackers smash to the floor and she knows that her old friend will be punished for the mistake later. She belongs to Draco and he does not give any leeway to his slaves.

From a corner of the room, she sees Snape emerge from a hidden door, and she can tell he is not in good humor. She secretly studies his face as he storms toward their Master. He is essentially unchanged from her time at Hogwarts, but she sees a bit of grey entering the hair at his temples. Her eyes compulsively go to his hands, which are balled at his sides in frustration. She longs to relax those hands and coerce his nimble fingers into action, as they had done so many times before, but knows that she will not get the chance. If he is this angry about being summoned, he will not welcome the intrusion of making her Sleekeasy Potion.

He slows down as he approaches the throne and quickly relaxes his hands before the Dark Lord sees his tenseness. He kneels, as she did, but is not greeted as she was.

"Severus! What say you to my proposition for tonight? Will you assist in the Mudblood's reward?" The Master's red eyes narrow at the perceived tension and awaits yet another excuse for Snape not doing what is assigned to him.

"Master, you know the project I am currently working on is extremely delicate, and in a sensitive time at present. I would like nothing better than to assist your pet in its efforts, but may I ask for an extra week to stabilize the potion you asked for?" Snape tries to placate his Master, knowing that he stalls on his progress as often as possible. In the four years since the Death Eaters won the war, Snape has become the head of a small faction of resistance who are trying to bring wizarding society back to its former state. Dumbledore was a sore loss to them all, and more to Snape than anyone, having been the one to cast the fatal curse. They are doing well, but Snape's revised role of double agent is still trying on his nerves at times.

"There will be no excuses tonight, Severus. I require that the Mudblood has her potion, and you are the only one here tonight qualified to help her make it. If you must, make use of her talents and get her to help on your other project as well. But you will make Sleekeasy tonight. Any other … amusements you see fit to take with her should more than compensate for your lost time."

Snape sighs inwardly and prepares for a long night. "As you wish, Master. Shall I take the Mudblood now?" He resigns himself to his fate.

"Yes, yes. Go." He waves a hand in dismissal and slouches back into his chair.

She stands at this and lowers her head in submission, following Snape back through the hidden door that leads to his laboratory. As they walk through the dark passageway, neither of them speak. Words are unnecessary and dangerous. They reach the door to his lab, and he opens it, ushering her in ahead of him. The door closes and he whispers the words that activate the wards surrounding his delicate work. He adds a silencing charm that not even Voldemort himself could break through and turns to face the dark beauty before him.

"Hello, Hermione."


	3. A Letter

Rating: M for safety's sake due to some dark events.

Characters: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy

Pairing: HG/SS alluded

Warnings: Dark!Hermione, vague sexual references, sado-masochism

**Author's Note**: This is still a WIP, but shall not probably be more than two-three chapters. I simply don't think it has the capability to go any further. It was intended to be just one chapter, but my muse took over and has allowed it to grow a bit. Comments/Reviews are appreciated, whether good or bad, because either can only serve to make any further chapters/stories better. Thanks.

"Hello, Hermione."

With these words, the tension in the room flees and she rushes into his arms, welcomed by his embrace. Her face lifts to his and their lips meet hungrily, bruising each other in their ardor. This is not a gentle kiss of new lovers, all lips and cheek with noses gently bumping in awkward newness, but one with teeth and tongues – the kiss of experience that holds much promise of what is to come.

The kiss breaks off and he tucks her head under his chin, keeping her very close to his heated body. "Gods, I've wanted to do that for so long," he whispers softly.

"As have I." She pulls her head back and looks up to his face, memorizing every curve, line, and wrinkle, noting the plethora of new ones since the last time she saw him. Pulling back from his embrace, she says dryly, "But we do not want to displease our Master. We should get started on the Sleekeasy Potion. He will not appreciate wasted time." Her gaze moves from him to the lab, making a mental map of ingredient placement for future reference.

He coughs gently, clearing his throat. "Yes. We should. If you will collect the necessary ingredients from the shelves, I will get the cauldron and base started." They move efficiently, knowing each other's individual dynamic in the lab and therefore working well around each other. The base solution begins heating while Hermione starts chopping the other ingredients to the precise size and shape needed for this particular potion. As the base reaches a temperature near boiling, Severus reduces the flame underneath to maintain the hard simmer and adds all but the last ingredient, stirring gently as a plume of purple smoke is belched from the hot liquid. The potion is all but complete, needing to simmer for two hours before the final ingredient is added.

Hermione quickly cleans the chopping area as Severus stirs the mixture, setting aside the lavender that will eventually complete the potion. As she replaces the last crock on the shelf, his arms come from behind to grab her, wrapping around her waist and he lays his head against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of the soap she used that morning. He mumbles against her neck, "I have a present for you."

Knowing that she will be unable to take the gift with her, she is excited despite herself. She leans back into his body and nearly purrs, "What is this … gift, Severus?" Her eyes lower and she softly flutters her eyelashes, turning her head slightly to face him.

He spins her around and looks into her eyes, searching for something, though he is not quite sure what. "Oh, nothing much, just a piece of parchment, really. The words on this parchment may make it quite valuable to you, however." He pauses for dramatic effect. "It is nothing more than a letter from Harry."

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops in a delicate "Oh." A letter from Harry! It is exactly what she has been looking for, but is surprised to receive it from Severus. _Maybe this letter will hold the information I have been seeking. Please let it tell me what I need to know._ She gives Severus a sound kiss on the lips, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist. His arms grip her tightly around the middle, staggering backward a little to regain his balance in the onslaught of her added weight.

"Thank" kiss "You" kiss "Severus" She continues to kiss his face in as many places as she can before pulling back to look into his eyes. "Where is it?" He laughs and lightly slaps her backside, making her slide down to stand on her own feet.

"Impatient. It's over here in a safe place." He crosses the room to a cabinet that holds more potions ingredients. The Dark Lord is such a horrible potion-maker that he never bothers Severus' ingredients stores for fear of causing himself harm by inadvertently mixing the wrong thing together – not that Severus would ever keep such volatile ingredients close enough for accidents of that nature. He reaches into a crock on the topmost shelf, pulling a small rolled parchment out. He tosses it her way, knowing she will catch it. "Here. Just do me a favor and spare me the details. I hear enough from him at our meetings." He sits in a cozy chair by the fire and waits for her to read the missive.

Excited at the prospect of hearing from Harry, she quickly opens the scroll and reads what he's written:

_Hermione, I hope this finds you alive. Snape assures me that you are, but we know how Voldemort's temper is, and I fear for your survival every day. There is a small group of us left fighting and we hope to have enough people to make our move soon. It is cold here in the mountains, but we are doing what we can and it's enough for now to know that we will soon reclaim the Wizarding World for the Light. Please do your best to stay safe and wait for us. Also, if you get a chance to speak to Ginny, please let her know we haven't forgotten about her either. Wait for us. Hang in there. We're coming soon. Love, Harry._

It isn't quite what she had expected, but there are clues to his location and the certainty that his numbers are quite small. It will do, she decides. Her face showing her excitement, she looks up and sees Severus sprawled into his chair with his wand sitting on the table beside him. His head is leaning on the back of the chair and his eyes are closed as though he is asleep. She crosses the room and settles into his lap, straddling him as she leans down to kiss him. Her hands run down his arms to his hands as her lips meet his. Their hands entwine and he raises his head to kiss her back hungrily. The kisses intensify and she leads his hands to her back, letting his hands go so they can stroke her back and bottom. She brings her hands back over his head to the back of the chair, gripping it tightly. She begins gyrating her hips against him as he kneads the soft flesh of her buttocks and he leans his head against the back of the chair again.

One of her hands surreptitiously angles toward the table to grab his wand, and she points it at his neck, stopping all other movement. His eyes open quickly, shocked as he feels the tip pressing against his jugular vein. "Hermione? What are you doing?" He sits up straight, replacing his hands on the arms of the chair from her back.

The action of sitting up knocks her from his lap to her feet, but her grip on his wand is tight and it remains pointed at him as she slowly backs away, out of his reach.

She laughs nervously and says "_Silencio,_" effectively stopping his questions. She feels the magic that has been repressed for so long roar back into her veins and her laughter increases in volume. "Oh Severus. You were so easy. Show a little respect, ask for a simple potion, give you a little kiss or two and you melt into submission. It's a wonder you've lasted this long in our Lord's service. But then again, you're not really _in_ his service, are you?" Her eyes are cruel as she taunts him. "_Petrificus Totalis_!" His body straightens and stiffens, causing him to fall out of his chair. She crouches down beside his prone body and whispers, "I'm sorry Severus, but I must do what I have to in order to survive. I know you will understand this more than the others will. But I must secure my place in this new world. We both know Harry hasn't the heart to win against the Lord Voldemort. He simply cannot kill." She stands back up and invokes her magic again, "_Locomotor Corpus._" His body lifts off the ground and floats beside her. "_Mobilicorpus._"

She begins walking out of the lab and motions with her wand for Snape to follow. He floats along behind her, quiet because of her silence charm. They make the trek up the hallways to the main chamber where Voldemort waits.

**A/N: **Thanks for waiting so patiently for the next chapter. Just one to go. I'll try to get it written and up before next weekend, but no promises.


	4. Completion

Rating: M for safety's sake due to some dark events.

Characters: Hermione Granger, Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy

Pairing: HG/SS alluded

Warnings: Dark!Hermione, vague sexual references, sado-masochism

**Author's Note**: Okay, so for better or worse, this is the end. My deepest apologies that this has taken two years, but life happens. Hopefully the completed story will make up for the time it's taken to get it written and published. Thanks to all my readers. You are awesome.

"You bitch!" He yells as the silence curse is lifted.

Red eyes narrow as the expletive rings through the ballroom, echoing from distant corners.

Hermione ignores Severus's insult as she levitates him the rest of the way to Lord Voldemort. She cancels the levitation spell and lowers his still frozen body to the ground at Voldemort's feet. "My Lord," she begins, "Severus is the traitor you have been looking for. He has passed me information from Potter, just as we thought he would. There are not many clues as to the location of the resistance movement, but perhaps enough to get a group there to wipe them out." She kneels beside Severus, head bowed and arms outstretched, his wand lying across her open palms. "I have done as you asked, my Lord."

"Indeed you have, Mudblood. Come and sit beside me again." She stands and moves back to her previous position beside the throne, handing him Snape's wand on the way. Settling in, she arranges her skirt again and raises her head to watch the proceedings. Voldemort rolls Snape's wand in his hand and begins twirling it in his fingers like a baton. "Severus. You have displeased me. Have you anything to say in your own defense?" His face is impassive, but to those who know where to look, it is obvious that he is seething on the inside.

"My Lord," Snape spits out the title, "I have no defense. I am on the side of right and light and you are not. We will win this and you will be forgotten, relegated to annals of history as a madman. Do with me what you will, but we _will_ win this." His normally placid eyes are stormy and filled with hatred for the one he calls Lord. "You are going to lose." His focus shifts from Voldemort to Hermione. "And you. We thought we could count on you to help take him down, and this is how our trust and Harry's friendship is repaid? Some friend you are. You will go down with him."

"_Silencio_!" Voldemort yells. "Mudblood, what is the information he passed to you?" Hermione pulls the bit of parchment from the cleft in the top of her corset and reads its message aloud. Using the bits of information given in the brief missive, he knows where to start looking. "_Crucio._" Snape opens his mouth in a silent scream, still under the effects of the silence and petrifaction spells. After a few moments under torture, something inside breaks and his eyes go slack as he loses consciousness. Voldemort takes advantage of his condition and whispers his next spell. "_Legilimens._" Voldemort soars through Snape's mind, unblocked in his condition by Occlumency. The information he seeks is readily presented to him, outlining exactly how many are in the resistance and where they are all hiding. All spells on Snape are cancelled and he continues to lie there, his eyes open but unseeing.

Now he turns to his left to face Hermione. "Mudblood, stand." She rises, keeping her eyes downcast. "Turn and face me." She stands, her eyes rising to his face, trying to get some sense of what was coming next. "You have done well tonight. To secure your new role in our society, there is a task I require of you."

"Of course, My Lord, what will you have of me?" She is eager to see what comes next. He holds out Snape's wand, handle out first, and nods for her to take it. She reaches, and as her hand grips the smooth black wood, she feels a warm energy coming from it. Voldemort, still holding the other end, catches her eyes in a red gaze and begins to speak. "To rise, someone else must fall. Take this wand as your own and kill its previous owner. There is no place here for a traitor."

She had somehow known this was coming. His fingers would never be nimble again, never chop and slice and brew, never make her body sing the way they once had. And it was all her fault. But she had to survive in the world she had, and after so long, she could not believe that Harry would save them all anymore. So, she steels up her resolve and pulls the wand from Voldemort's hand. Her eyes close for a moment as she turns to face Snape, lying there with blank, empty eyes and a slack mouth. He is already dead inside and it is her job to put him out of his misery. "_Avada Kedavra_!" She speaks the words and the energy transfer takes place. A green flash of light makes its way to Snape and a surge of dark, black energy races up her arm, taking the shape of the Dark Mark on her forearm. She screams and falls to her knees, but manages to hold her grip on the wand somehow. And then the pain is over.

"Arise, Hermione, and take your place as one of my Death Eaters." He smiles and offers her a hand up. "Welcome to your new life." She stands and turns to face the room as an equal. Using her reacquired magic, she transfigures the clothes on her body to an extravagant ball gown of maroon velvet. It is strapless and still shows an impressive amount of cleavage over the tight bodice, falling to a full skirt that tumbles around her ankles. For the first time in four years, she has shoes on her feet, light slippers made of the same material as her dress, and she sighs in relief at not having to brave stone floors with bare feet anymore.

"Thank you, My Lord. It is my pleasure to continue to serve you to the best of my abilities." She lowers into an elegant curtsy before him, holding the position for several minutes while Voldemort stands to make a proclamation to his Death Eaters.

"My followers and citizens of my Wizarding World, welcome our newest citizen, Hermione Granger. She has proven herself to me and therefore to you as well. You will no longer treat her as the slave she has been, but as someone of the same social rank as yourselves. The punishment will be severe for any who think to mistreat her, and it is because of her that we have the information necessary to finish this war and arise as the ultimate victor." A hand rises and he calls for Wormtail. "Get rid of Snape's body, Wormtail, and retrieve Hermione's possessions from the slave quarters and move them all to his rooms. They now belong to her." Wormtail squeaks out "Yes My Lord" and scampers away to do his Master's bidding. Voldemort turns and takes the steps back to his throne, settling back in his seat. "You may go for now, Hermione. Go and reintroduce yourself in your new identity to your new colleagues. First, send young Malfoy to me, however. There are things I find I must discuss with him."

She straightens from the curtsy and takes the few steps back to her Master, kissing his hand and then turning to do as he has asked. Hermione slowly makes her way through the room, nodding and saying hello as she maneuvers toward a platinum head in the back of the room. "Draco."

He turns and smiles tersely at her with a brief nod of his head. "Hermione."

"Our Master has requested to speak with you right away."

"Of course." He turns back to the people with whom he was speaking and makes his excuses, heading off toward Voldemort, not knowing that it is to his death he is walking so nonchalantly. In the information Voldemort pulled from Snape's head, he had found that the young aristocrat had abandoned their principles and was also involved in the resistance. As Draco approaches the throne, Voldemort stands and ushers him back to the chamber reserved for the Dark Lord, planning on stretching this torture session out much longer than he had done with Snape and requiring more privacy to extract whatever information Draco might have.

She sees their departure from the other side of the room, where she is getting a drink from the bar, and wonders what requires such privacy to take place, but a cool hand on her upper arm removes the situation from the forefront of her mind.

"So it is done?" A voice whispers into her ear, a warm breath caressing the tender area surrounding it. The hand glides down to her forearm, feeling the raised area where her Dark Mark is imprinted in her skin.

"Yes. I am free now; free to do what I want so long as it does not displease him. I am equal in status to you finally." Her eyes close and she takes a slow sip from her glass of rich red wine. Another cool hand on her other arm pulls her back and she leans back into his chest, enjoying the feeling of freely being able to do this and not having to worry about whether or not he is the one she is given to for the night. She will never have to worry about that again. Lips press against the top of her head and she is happy.

"He has given me Severus's quarters and belongings. Care to help me break them in?" Her eyes are still closed, her right hand covering his on her arm, and the left still gripping the wine glass.

"I thought you would never ask." He pulls away from her back and they regain their composure, her eyes fluttering open. She takes one last sip from her glass and sets it down to be taken and cleaned. "Lead the way, sweet," he says, reaching for her now empty hand. She returns the gesture, their hands meeting and gripping tightly to each other. They begin to move toward the same door she used earlier on her way to the Potions lab, knowing Severus's quarters had been close by for convenience in brewing.

A scream from Voldemort's chamber breaks through the din of the bustling party, but is unheard by the two as they seem to glide through toward the door. They pay no attention to any of their surroundings in their hurry to get to her room. The trip down the hall is blessedly short, and as the door closes behind them, she reaches up and pulls him down for a hungry kiss, lips and tongues meeting until they more resemble one person than two, hands traveling through hair and down backs, trying to get ever closer to one another. They break apart for air, chests heaving and eyes glittering, mouths swollen from their ardor.

"I love you, Hermione," he says breathlessly.

Her breath hitches in her throat again and then the words tumble out of her mouth, "I love you too, Lucius."

They both grab for each other again and as they lose themselves in each other, nothing else matters but the touches and sighs and gasps they make. Not Draco being flayed alive for his betrayal, not knowing that soon a party would assemble to take out Harry and the rest of the resistance. It all fades away to two people, two bodies, surging together to become one.

**THE END**

**A/N:** Well, there it is. After two and a half years, two years idle, and many moves and changes, there it is. It's finished. I'd like to know what you all think of it… if you have a minute and a few words to spare, I'd appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading.

-Cherrii


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